Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave
by OneOfTheWeasleys
Summary: In the afterlife, the souls of the deceased are guided to the one place that held the most meaning to them, and for the rest of time, they stay there. For the Potters, it was Godric's Hollow.
1. The Beginning of the End

**Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave **

**written by: **OneoftheWeasleys

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**Chapter One: The Beginning of the End**

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Before the plunge into darkness occurs, the world seems to take a deep gasp for breath, leaving it in an uncomfortable stillness until the evil bursts forth and consumes everything in it's path. The usual fall breeze did not pass through the small Muggle village that night. Nothing that of usual nature was happening at all. There were no couples walking happily arm-in-arm with one another down the main road, no dog could be heard howling at the large moon, not even a rustle of leaves echoed through the land. It was quiet, deathly quiet.

The streets were empty, all of the town's people safely within the cottages and buildings that made up the small village. They were at home. The one place almost every child and even adults believe can keep harm away from them; that was home. But one tall figure, dressed in black robes that hid every feature of his body except his dark eyes knew, that as he stood outside of a cottage house with a gate surrounding it, that the change in weather was no mere coincidence. He knew the family that lived there would never be safe, no matter the amount of protection the family believed they had.

The light of a street lamp cascaded down upon the cloaked figure, making his red, snakelike eyes glisten darkly from within his hood as he remained still, just outside of the small gates entrance. He waited without a sound, his breathing almost at a complete stop as his eyes remained fixed upon the second story of the house. The child was in the nursery and sound asleep without a thought in his tiny mind. It was time. The hours he stood out there, alone and waiting, was know all going to be worthwhile.

He stepped forward, pushing the gate open with the faintest creak issuing from the rusted hinges. A wicked grin formed as he inched closer to the large door of oak. Branches, one after another, cracked and snapped in pieces beneath his feet but he no longer worried about attracting the attention of the family. They were already in his grasp. The secrets had been revealed to him only the night before and he knew that once he passed the threshold, there was nothing that anyone could do to stop him.

"_They have made me their Secret Keeper, my Lord!" the squeaky voice of one of his many followers whispered, bowing low to the floor, his face mere inches from the feet that belonged to the man known as Lord Voldemort. His red eyes creased into slits, giving him the appearance of a snake as he smiled. The man on the floor didn't know what to make of his smile, the Lord never smiled._

"_It is good of you to come to me with this very important information, Wormtail," said Voldemort, his voice making the man on the floor give an involuntary quiver. "Fetch my cloak," he hissed._

"_My Lord," stuttered Wormtail as he stood but keeping his head in a low bow, "my Lord, it is such an honor—such an honor!" _

_'Fool,' Voldemort thought as the pasty faced man stumbled from his room and into the main corridor, the door clicking softly closed. The parlor was circular and empty except for a large desk and an equally massive chair, usually made for kings, behind it. The Lord had been sitting in it only minutes before, lounging in his pride and dreams of the world he would make. But something always blocked his mind, never allowing him to further his dream into reality. Not until now. His obstacle was soon going to be no more. The Lord tossed his head back and began to laugh, a cruel and bone chilling one that made the house fall silent, his followers listening with strained ears. They now also knew; the time had come._

A loud wind began to howl, breaking the unbearable silence as it crashed into the trees, pressing the wood until great creaks began to fill the air. From a short distance a dog could be heard whining, his canine senses awakening to the harsh world that surrounded him and the evil that was about to take place. With a long, bony hand, Lord Voldemort gracefully pulled open his robes and took from the depths of his pocket, a wand. It was the most important part of his being and he wielded it with both knowledge and cruelty. The thin, wooden stick had been used many times as a weapon to kill and tonight, it would do the same.


	2. Life After Death

**Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave**

**written by: **OneoftheWeasleys

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**Chapter Two: Life After Death**

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It was the sound of nothingness that had awoken him. It made his ears itch and ache as he tried but failed to catch any sign of movement. His favorite smell, the scent of freshly cut grass, lingered in the air that surrounded him. He took in deep breaths and wiggled his nose into the soft ground that his body rested on. His hands grasped the blades of the green lawn that grew beneath him, his fingertips grazing over each one carefully. The lids of his hazel eyes slowly fluttered open but all he could see was a blurry haze.

A pair of black-rimmed glasses was cast a few feet away from the man's right hand and he quickly reached out to retrieve them and restore his eyesight. As he sat up and fumbled to place his glasses back upon his nose, he realized that he didn't know where he was. Well, he actually did know where he was; he just didn't know why he was there. Godric's Hollow stood tall and welcoming before him. But it looked different.

The windows that were usually thrown open to welcome in the fresh air and cool breezes were now shut tight. No longer was paint chipping off of the front of the house or a small crack in the front door's windowpane. The fall leaves and branches from the trees no longer were upon the ground as they once were. Godric's Hollow was too perfect. It was not how James Potter remembered it.

Why? Why was Godric's Hollow different? Why couldn't he remember how he ended up face first in the grass outside? Was he losing it? Had he finally gone bonkers after a year of staying in his home, locked away from most of the world?

And then, he remembered. In a matter of seconds, his brain began to swarm with the sudden memories of his death. Each part came flooding rapidly back to his mind and with a cry he fell to his knees before his home.

_The dining room was empty except for one man, James Potter, who sat at the large wooden table, balancing on his chair's hind legs. His feet were kicked up onto the table and his eyes were shut tight as he hummed a little tune under his breath. This was his favorite way to lounge after a very hard day, even if his wife, Lily Evans, gave him a yelling at for having his feet on the dinner table._

_James casually brushed a hand through his dark locks of hair, an exasperated sigh escaping his slightly parted lips. It had been a long night. A very long night. Harry James Potter was more than restless this evening but even through the screaming and crying, the small child's tantrum made James even more happy to be a father. Harry could do no wrong in his eyes. His son was perfect—from Harry's little button nose to his bright green eyes that reminded James of his wife. And the tiny hands that clasped around his adult-sized fingers and the belly laughs that only James could make Harry perform loud and clear—he was wonderful._

_The very old and quite loud Grandfather Clock began to chime a triumphant tune from the living room. James quickly shoved his fingers into his ears to muffle the horrible sound that he detested. He hated everything about that clock: from it's dings, dongs, and chimes to the clock's large face with numbers and hands that made time zoom past. But it belonged to Lily and she loved it. Therefore, James loved it too. _

_Lily. His Lily. He never thought in a million years that one day he would be able to call her that and she would accept it. It took his breath away every time she would answer him with a "my James." He loved her more than any other man could ever love a woman. Lily had captivated James from the first time he saw her arrive onto Platform 9 ¾ when both were entering their first year at Hogwarts. She had hated him from that day forth until their sixth year when Sirius Black, the best friend of James, decided it would be quiet funny to barricade them in an old broom closet. A week later they were talking 'normally' to each other and in less than a month, they were dating._

"_James?" called Lily's voice from the second floor of their home. The light pitter-patter of her feet upon the stairs rumbled into his ears and it didn't take long for the red haired and green-eyed Mrs. Potter to enter the kitchen. She looked distressed. Her hair was frizzy and poking out in odd spots, no doubt from Harry's obsession with clinging onto her long red locks. She placed her hands on her hips, as every woman does when they are more than annoyed, and continued, "James, have you seen Harry's doll?"_

"_It's not a doll," groaned James, the very thought of his son playing with girl stuff upsetting his dream's of Harry becoming the manly quidditch player that he had been. "Please call it his stuffed animal or...teddy bear. Anything but...his doll."_

"_James Potter, get your feet off of that table," she hissed. James nearly toppled backwards and out of his chair from her sudden sternness but gave her a goofy smile when he regained his normal composure. "Now, do you or do you not know where Harry's doll is?" _

_He sighed before answering, "I think it's on the sofa in the living room, dear." As Lily turned around and made her way back into the small room she had entered through, the sound of a tree branch breaking came from just outside the dining room window. It had been unusually silent throughout the entire night and now the sudden noises made the hair on the back of James's neck stand up. Something was not right and he could feel it._

"_Ugh—I can't find Harry's wretched doll," came Lily's aggravated voice from the other room._

"_Keep looking, I know it's there," answered James, standing to crane his neck for a better look outside. James could hear Lily's constant complaining as he moved from the small window to the large oak door. A shadow moved from the depths of the darkness, drawing closer towards Godric's Hollow causing James to freeze in horror. He had found them. Voldemort had arrived to murder his family._

"_LILY, RUN!" yelled James at the top of his lungs, as he locked the door and tried to barricade it with his body, even though he knew it would do no good. A bright green ray of light entered through the keyhole and James quickly yelled again, "LILY, HE'S HERE! HE'S FOUND US! TAKE HARRY AND RUN! RUN LILY!"_

_A blast with the power and force of a bomb sent James flying into the wall opposite of the door. The spell knocked the wind out of him and caused his ears to ring in pain. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead and his eyes tried to focus but were blurred without the help of his glasses, which were now just a crumbled heap upon the floor. From the corner of his eye, he could still make out the tall, thin figure of Voldemort as he entered the home. _

_James threw the full weight of his body upon Voldemort, wanting to stop him or even kill him. He had to stop the evil creature that haunted his dreams; the one that had ruined the happy family he was supposed to have. Voldemort yelled out in frustration and threw James off of him with another blast from his wand. _

_Lord Voldemort towered over James crumpled body, speaking softly for only James to hear, "You chose the wrong side. You knew that you would die if you stood against me and now it will not only be you that suffers, but your wife and also your son will die along with you. Well maybe not Lily, I promised not to harm her. But who am I to promise the filth that worships me. Just remember, James, that you fought and lost to me." James moved to try and stop him, to save his family, but with a flash of green, James fell back onto the floor as his last breath of life left his lips._

James pounded his fists on the ground as his head rested upon the cool grass. He was dead. It was as simple as that. But he didn't understand. Why was he here at Godric's Hollow? Why was he at home? Where was Lily?

His head shot up, _Lily!_ James stumbled to his feet as he ran to the front door. With a crash, he entered the home and began to scream, "LILY?! LILY!" But in the back of his mind, he knew that as he frantically searched every room, looked behind every door, and scanned the attic, Lily was not there. She was still alive.

He had fought to save her. James had sacrificed himself to save the love of his life and his little boy. With his head hung low, James took his seat at the very end of the large wooden table in the dining room. He placed his head in his hands and began to cry softly, the tears streaking down his dirty cheeks and leaving a clean path until they cascaded off of his chin and onto the table.

_'Lily,' _his mind pondered. He wanted to see her face, to touch it softly and run his hands through her long, beautiful hair. James felt selfish for wanting her to be with him at this very moment, to hold her close to his body and whisper that everything would be all right. James wanted her to live, to grow old and raise their only son, Harry.

_'Harry,' _his heart ached with pain at the thought of his son_,_ '_I wish I could have seen him grow. To teach him everything I know and tuck him into bed at night. To kiss his cuts and hold him when he gets scared. I wish I could show him how to play Quidditch just like me and tell him everything about Hogwarts and the secrets that I discovered with my friends.' _James heart jumped once again and he had to stifle a loud cry that came from deep in his gut.

_'I wish I could have said goodbye. To tell them how much they mean to me and to hug them one last time. Sirius, the best friend that was more like a brother, and Remus, an equally great friend and the backbone of the Marauders. And Peter, the most loyal and kindest—' _But James had stopped then, as he thought of his friend, Peter Pettigrew.

He was one of the four Marauders. James had trusted him and also thought of him more as a brother than a friend. But he was the reason why James couldn't fulfill the dreams that he had wished for. James pounded his fists on the table and with an uproar of anger, threw his chair across the room. The chair had crumbled to pieces as it hit the far wall but when it fell to the ground, the broken wood shot back together and the chair was back in it's mint condition.

"I hate him! I want to kill him! I'll rip him apart, from limb to limb! He's ruined my life—he's killed me. He has killed my family—," screamed James into the nothingness that filled the house. He was dead and alone and it was his friend's entire fault. He didn't understand how Peter could do this to him; they were friends. James had trusted him enough to make him the secret-keeper after Sirius had come to him, asking for him to do so.

James grabbed the chair he had thrown from the corner and pulled it back to the table. He resumed his seat and once again placed his head in his hands. He didn't know what to do. He thought of Heaven as a bright, clean place that would leave him in peace and serenity. Was this punishment?

James believed so. To live the rest of eternity in the small, grimy Godric's Hollow was going to be torture. Of course when he was still _alive_, he had loved this place because Lily was there. Then it was home. Now, it was no more than a horrid place that only reminded him of what could have been.

A soft knock on the front door made James groan. Now he would be hearing annoying noises also. This was no Heaven but a Hell. Another knock made him realize that the sound wasn't in his mind. There was someone at the door. James ran to the front door and grasped the handle. He took a deep breath before turning the knob and, with caution, opened the door.


	3. Broken Dreams

**Unable to Stay, Unwilling to Leave**

**written by:** OneoftheWeasleys

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**Chapter Three: Broken Dreams **

_'"LILY, HE'S HERE! HE'S FOUND US! TAKE HARRY AND RUN! RUN LILY!" A thunderous noise came from the kitchen, shaking the walls that surrounded her. Lily started for the staircase, the screams of her husband's courageous fighting following her every footstep. She stumbled and was nearly half way up the stairs when she froze. Her heart had stopped and was lodged in her throat, causing her to gasp for air. Lily was unable to move as she watched the love of her life take his last breath and fall into a heap on the floor at the feet of the dark figure. _

_Voldemort's eyes shot up and pierced through Lily's, enraging her soul and lighting a burning fire to kill him. She reached for her back pocket and clasped her hand around her wand. She would kill him or, at the least, cause him pain before he took her life. As she was about to bring a curse upon him, the cry of a baby on the second floor made her look away. _

_From the corner of her eye, Lily could see Voldemort mimicking her gaze. She knew what he had come for. She had to save Harry. Her wand fell from her grasp as a curse was shot at her, missing her right shoulder by inches. Lily's heart raced faster as another curse was sent at her. She fell to the ground and rapidly began to crawl up the stairs. Harry's screams became louder as she reached the second floor but they could not cover the sound of Voldemort's footsteps ascending the stairs at a rapid pace._

"_Hush, Harry," Lily whispered quickly as she shut the door of Harry's nursery and locked it. She knew this wouldn't stop him but she needed the few seconds it gave her to hold her son for the last time. She picked him up and held him close to her chest, her tears falling from her cheeks and into the strands of Harry's black hair. She lifted him up and kissed his forehead, whispering, "I love you, Harry! Don't be scared, I will always be with you my darling..." _

_The door to the nursery was blasted in from behind Lily and she clutched Harry tighter to her chest to protect him from the blow. She screamed as shards of wood crashed into her body, making her hunch over in pain. Through her sobs, a crackling high-pitched laugh rang. _

"_Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" Lily screamed over Voldemort's cruel voice, cradling her boy as she remained hunched over him._

"_Stand aside you silly girl...stand aside now," he replied with annoyance as he held his wand at the ready._

"_Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—," Lily begged, screwing her eyes shut and rocking back and forth to calm the now hysteric Harry, "Not Harry! Please...have mercy...have mercy..." _

_His shrill laugh echoed through the room once more and with a wave of his wand, a flash of green shot at Lily's back and she fell to the ground beside Harry.'_

Screams echoed in her ears and she was unable to figure out which was her own and which was Harry's. She covered her ears with her hands and slowly the screams died away. The sound of her sobs was the first to break the unusual silence that now surrounded her. She couldn't calm herself. The last moments before her death repeated nonstop in her mind, driving her further into madness and hysterical crying.

Lily slowly opened her eyes, the combination of her tears and the bright sun making it nearly impossible for her to see. She knew she was sprawled out on a dirt path. From her position, Lily could tell she was lying next to a fence. One that looked rather familiar.

She rested there for a while, unwilling to gather enough energy to discover where she was. Her soul was gone. Her heart was torn. Her family had been taken from her and killed. She had nothing left to encourage her to do anything but think.

As she slowly began to weep again, the smell of fresh cut grass drifted into her senses and reminded her of the love of her life. It was James's favorite scent. He had been so wonderful both as a father to their child and a lover to her heart.

It was the thought of him that finally lifted her from the ground and onto her feet. It was then that she realized why the gate had looked so familiar.

James didn't understand who or what could be knocking on his door. He was dead and alone. It was as simple as that. But still, he inched forward to the wooden barrier, each step he took sounding loudly against the emptiness of the home. He drew in a deep breath as he grasped the brass door handle, eager to find the source of the knocking. But he also feared it.

As he inhaled one last time, James threw open the door and took a step back. The light from the unusually bright sun made him squint and turn from the door as one of his arms flew up to shield the rays. He staggered back, nearly tripping over the small door rug. Once the light had dimmed, his arm fell back to his side and with a few blinks, his vision became clear. But something was not right. Standing in the doorway was a small figure, nearly a head shorter than him. Her shoulders were slouched and he could tell that she was crying by the way she shook slightly. Her head was bowed and her face hidden by her long hair but James knew who it was.

"Lily?" he whispered as he stepped closer to the red haired woman. She didn't answer but instead slowly raised her head.

"James?" she wheezed. Lily's tears started to fall at a fast rate and as she fell forward, James quickly took her into his arms before she hit the ground.

He held her tight, bringing her as close to his body as he could, never wanting to let her go. "I'm here, Lily" he began to whisper into her hair, one hand entwining itself with the long locks, "Oh, Lily. What happened? I tried to stop him, to give you enough time to run."

"I watched him kill you, James!" she began, sobbing harder into his chest. She raised her head and looked him deeply in the eyes as more tears formed in her own. James wiped her cheeks with his thumbs and touched his lips softly to her forehead.

"I froze, James. I was on the stairs and I couldn't move!" she continued, her eyes shutting as she clung tightly to his body and rested her head on his shoulder, "I didn't want to leave you, I wanted to him to kill me with you by my side! But than I heard Harry begin to cry—.

"—James, he only wanted Harry! I begged him, James. I was crawling at his feet, begging the bastard! He laughed at me! He just laughed and the last thing I remember...a bright flash of green and—and Harry's screams! Oh James, our boy is alone! What if he has killed him?!" Lily let go of her husband and collapsed into a heap at his feet.

"Don't say that Lily," whispered James as he fell down beside her, lifting her shaking form into his arms. He brought her body close to his and held her head to his chest. She gasped for air through her sobs and James slowly began to rock her back and forth, patting her hair and whispering into her ear, "He will live, Lily. Harry will live!"

At last, Lily began to relax, nodding her head and wiping the remainder of tears from her cheeks, repeating, "He will live." James stood up and lifted Lily to her feet, helping her walk into the kitchen and towards the large dining table. He sat her down in the chair next to his and after making sure she was alright, he took his own seat beside her. He watched as Lily pushed the hair that was matted to her face from the tears, the way she trembled ever so slightly from all of the crying.

He felt a twinge of guilt for the eruption of happiness within his soul for her being here. He knew that she should not be dead, that she should be with Harry, raising him and living the rest of her life, even if he wasn't there. But at the same time, James knew that if he had to live a day without her, his soul would diminish and he would become the nothingness that consumed the afterlife.

"James?" Lily questioned after a few moments of silence, waking him from his thoughts, "James, are we home?"

He smiled at her, taking one of her hands and kissing it gently. "Yes," he replied softly, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly, "Yes Lily, we are home."


End file.
